Old Song "Wind of the Winter Night"

Wind of the winter night, whence comest thou,
And whither, oh whither art wand'ring now.
Sad, sad is thy voice on this desolate moor,
And mournful, oh mournful, thy howl at my door,
Say where has thou been on thy cloud lifted car,
Say what hast thou seen on thy roamings afar...
Oh what sorrow impels thee, thou boist'rous blast,
Thus to mourn and complain as thou journiest past.

I have been where snow on the chill mountain peak,
Would have frozen the blood on the ruddiest cheek,
And for many a dismal and desolate day,
No beam of the sunshine has brighten'd my way;
No beam of the sunshine has brighten'd my way.

I have come from the deep where the storm in its wrath
Spread havoc and death on its pitiless path
Where the billows rose up as the lightnin flew by,
And twisted their arms in the dun colour'd sky;
And I saw a frail vessel all torn by the wave,
Drawn down with her crew to a fathomless grave
And I heard the loud creak of her hull as I past,
And the flap of her sails, and the crash of her mast!
But it smote on my ear, like the tocsin of death,
As she struggled and strove with the waters for breath;
As she struggled and strove with the waters for breath.
'Tis her requiem I tune, as I howl through the sky,
And repent of the fury that caused her to die.